ALSO BY KEVIN KWAN
Crazy Rich Asians
China Rich Girlfriend
Rich People Problems
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by Tyersall Park Ltd.
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Doubleday, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York, and in Canada by Penguin Random House Canada Limited, Toronto.
www.doubleday.com
DOUBLEDAY and the portrayal of an anchor with a dolphin are registered trademarks of Penguin Random House LLC.
Cover design by John Fontana
Cover illustration by Clément Dezelus
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Kwan, Kevin, author.
Title: Sex and vanity : a novel / Kevin Kwan.
Description: First edition. | New York : Doubleday, [2020]
Identifiers: LCCN 2020011658 (print) | LCCN 2020011659 (ebook) | ISBN 9780385546270 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780385546287 (ebook) | ISBN 9780385546362 (open market)
Subjects: GSAFD: Love stories.
Classification: LCC PS3611.W36 S49 2020 (print) | LCC PS3611.W36 (ebook) | DDC 813/.6—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020011658
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020011659
Ebook ISBN 9780385546287
ep_prh_5.5.0_c0_r0
Contents
Cover
Also by Kevin Kwan
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Capri, Italy, 2013
Part I: Capri
Chapter I: Anacapri
Chapter II: Hotel Bertolucci
Chapter III: Poolside at the Bertolucci
Chapter IV: The Gardens of Augustus
Chapter V: Da Luigi Beach Club
Chapter VI: Da Costanzo
Chapter VII: Arco Naturale
Chapter VIII: Marina Grande
Chapter IX: Villa Lachowski
Chapter X: The High Garden at Villa Lachowski
Chapter XI: Hotel Bertolucci
Chapter XII: Certosa di San Giacomo
Chapter XIII: Villa Lysis
Chapter XIV: Villa Jovis
Chapter XV: Hotel Bertolucci
Part II: New York
Chapter II: 821 Fifth Avenue
Chapter III: The Seventeenth Floor
Chapter IV: Outlook Avenue
Chapter V: The Preppie Guru Lounge
Chapter VI: Outlook Avenue
Chapter VII: Ditch Plains
Chapter VIII: Saint Luke’s Place
Chapter IX: Dorset Yacht Club
Chapter X: Cissinghurst
Chapter XI: Outlook Avenue
Chapter XII: Three Lives & Company
Chapter XIII: Doubles
Chapter XIV: Rockefeller Center
Chapter XV: Tea & Sympathy
Chapter XVI: Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir
Chapter XVII: The Animal Rescue Fund Summer Gala
Chapter XVIII: Montauk Highway
Chapter XIX: The Preppie Guru Lounge
Part III: Capri
Acknowledgments
A Note About the Author
For Capri, the island that feeds my soul,
and for New York, the city that took me in,
nurtured me, and changed me forever
From: Isabel Chiu
To: lucietangchurchill@gmail.com
Subject: la dolce vita
Lucie!!!
I’m sooooo happy you’re coming to my wedding in Capri! Do you know, apart from my family, you’re the person I’ve known the longest who will be there? I can hardly believe we’ve been friends since I was 13 and you were 7—you were the only kid I ever babysat, although I would hardly consider it babysitting since you had to endure repeated viewings of Roswell and hearing me moan nonstop about my obsessions. (Remember Nikolai? Ran into him at Erewhon the other day. He’s in LA working as a location scout for Lawrence Bender, and he’s totally unrecognizable now!)
Anyway, after getting approval from my mom’s fortune teller, we’ve chosen an auspicious day in July to celebrate our nuptials, and Capri, where Dolfi spent every summer of his youth and where his family has deep roots, will be absolutely magical at that time. It’s so special to me that you’re joining us, and of course I remember your cousin Charlotte and look forward to seeing her too. I can’t wait for all of us to be on the island together and for you to meet my friends!
My calligrapher is behind schedule because she was a bit unprepared for the sheer number of guests, but the formal invitations should be done by the end of the month. Be on the lookout for yours!
xoxo,
Issie
To: Lucie Tang Churchill & Guest
999 FIFTH AVENUE, APT. 12B
NEW YORK, NY 10028
CAPRI, ITALY, 2013
The trail was lit by tall flickering torches, but Charlotte Barclay still felt like she could have fallen a thousand times on the pathway. She knew she had broken the cardinal rule that every seasoned magazine editor like herself always adhered to: dress sensibly, not frivolously, when traveling. Staring down at the tattered hemline of her party dress and cursing her decision to wear stilettos borrowed from Olivia Lavistock at the last minute, she felt like she had been stumbling through the woods for hours, although it had been only about fifteen minutes, and when the villa finally came into view, its Ionic columns illuminated in high relief against the dark liquid night, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Patting down her fastidious blond bob—a style that had not altered since her days at Miss Porter’s—Charlotte climbed up the uneven marble steps and entered the terrace overlooking the Bay of Naples, feeling disoriented yet again. The graceful veranda that was empty an hour ago had been transformed in the blink of an eye into yet another banquet space where a lavish midnight buffet was set up, and wedding guests lured from the ballroom were grazing like chic gazelles at the long tables laden with delectable treats.
Charlotte glanced around nervously, feeling as if every single one of those damned Italian principessas and contessas was scrutinizing her every move. How could the most exquisite wedding she’d ever witnessed have morphed so quickly into a living nightmare? She saw Auden Beebe pile a heap of lobster ravioli onto his plate, and for a moment she wanted to rush over to him for help. No, he’s the wrong person. He won’t quite understand. The Ortiz sisters were just coming up the stairs. Absolutely not them.
When she spotted Olivia perched at one of the high-top bistro tables along the wall, she could finally feel the tension in her shoulders ease. Olivia would know what to do. Olivia would be cool; she was an avant-garde filmmaker. Olivia was English, but she wasn’t like the other English here. She lived in LA and had gone to school in Paris, so she’d probably seen some shit in her time. Olivia would help her out of this unthinkable mess.
Charlotte marched up alongside her, covertly grabbing her elbow. Olivia immediately caught Charlotte’s
look and misread it. “Sure, call me a hypocrite. But after watching you inhaling pasta, focaccia, biscotti, and every possible variation of gluten for the past week, what did you think would happen? This white truffle and caviar pizza is better than wild muddy sex in a Scottish dale with Sam Heughan. You ought to write about it in your magazine.”
Charlotte tried to speak but found that her throat was too parched.
“I’m talking about the pizza, not the muddy Scottish sex,” Olivia clarified, although Charlotte clearly hadn’t been listening to a word she had said. She simply leaned against Olivia, trying to catch her breath.
“Are you okay?” Olivia asked, registering the shell-shocked expression on Charlotte’s face for the first time.
“What happened to Lucie? Should I get help?” Olivia asked.
“She doesn’t need any help, she’s fine. Actually, she’s not fine. Oh, my poor Lucie. Everything’s ruined! Abso-fucking-lutely ruined!”
Olivia frowned, not sure what to make of this outburst. She hadn’t known Charlotte Barclay very long, but they had become thick as thieves over the past week, and Olivia would never have imagined that this unflappably poised woman in her mid-forties would suddenly, apparently, lose it. “Charlotte, how many glasses of champagne did you have at dinner?” Olivia delicately inquired.
Straightening up and brushing off the stray twigs caught on her Oscar de la Renta gown, Charlotte said furtively, “Olivia, can I trust you? Can I count on your help?”
“Of course you can.”
Charlotte continued. “You know I’m only at this wedding as a favor to Lucie’s family. I’m just the plus-one here, and my only job was to keep an eye on my young cousin. But I’ve failed in my duty. Utterly, epically failed. We should never have come to this wedding. We should never have come to Capri. Jesus Christ, her mother’s going to lose her shit when she finds out! And my grandmother’s going to skin me alive!”
Charlotte buried her face in her hands, and Olivia could see that she was legitimately anguished. “Find out what? And where is Lucie now?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to know. I don’t know how I’ll ever look her in the face again.”
“Charlotte, please stop being so cryptic. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s happened.”
Looking her dead in the eye, Charlotte said, “You’ve got to promise you’ll never tell a soul.”
“I promise.”
“Swear on it. On your mother’s grave.”
“Mother still lives and breathes, but I’ll swear on her life.”
Charlotte exhaled. “When did you last see Lucie?”
“I’m not sure…on the dance floor with the bridal party? She was dancing with Sandro, and I thought they looked like such a lovely pair—him with those long Botticelli curls, and Lucie in that gossamer dress, dancing amid all those candles. It looked so gorgeous, I almost wanted to take a picture to remember it for a future scene.”
“Yes, they were dancing. But after the fireworks, I noticed that Lucie had disappeared. I heard that some of the young ones had gone up to Villa Jovis again, so I went up to the ruins looking for her.”
“You trekked all the way up the hill again? In my Viviers?” Olivia reflexively peered at Charlotte’s feet, wondering how obliterated her shoes were.
“This fellow in a golf cart drove me up. Anyway, when I got up there, would you believe what I found? A whole bunch of kids smoking weed in the chapel. It looked like a drug den in Tangier!”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “Charlotte, please don’t tell me you are upset because Lucie was doing that. All the kids have been smoking every night behind the pool. That kid whose family owns Ecuador brought a whole trunk bursting to the brim with goodies, so I’m told.”
“Olivia! Do you really think I’m that much of a square? I went to Smith,* remember? Lucie’s nineteen years old, and I couldn’t care less if she wants to get baked as a Pop-Tart. Let me finish! I went through the great hall, and then I climbed up to the watchtower, but I couldn’t find Lucie anywhere. I was wandering around those godforsaken ruins lit only by lanterns, and just when I thought I was completely lost, I found a passage leading outside to the cliff walk—that precarious path right by Tiberius’s Leap.”
“Dear God, please don’t tell me Lucie fell!”
“No, it’s nothing like that! I went out to the edge and saw some steps leading down to a little grotto, so I went down and that’s…” Charlotte paused for a moment, steeling herself. “That’s when I saw them.”
“Who is them? What were they doing?”
“Olivia, I couldn’t believe it. I just couldn’t believe my eyes,” Charlotte moaned.
“Let me guess…were they doing bumps?”
“Noooo!” Charlotte said dismissively.
“Sacrificing goats?”
“Olivia, it was…unspeakable!”
“Oh, come on, nothing is that unspeakable.”
Charlotte shook her head vehemently. “I’m so mortified. Lucie, my poor little cousin, has ruined herself. She’s absolutely ruined her life!”
Olivia wanted to shake her. “Charlotte Barclay! Tell. Me. What. You. Saw!”
Looking around again as if she had been caught committing the most cardinal sin, Charlotte leaned toward Olivia’s ear and began to whisper.
Olivia’s eyes widened. “Who? Whaaaat?! What the fuck?”
“What the fuck is right. I was so alarmed, I couldn’t help myself. I blurted out, ‘Stop it! ’ ”
Olivia threw her head back and let out a shriek that sounded like murder.
* Smith College in Northampton, Massachusetts, is considered one of the finest women’s liberal arts colleges in America, with notable alumnae like Gloria Steinem, Barbara Bush, and Julia Child. Not that this has stopped the nearby men’s fraternities from coining the saying “Smith to bed, Mount Holyoke to wed, and Amherst girls to talk to.”
I
· 2013 ·
Dearest Lucie and Charlotte,
Our wedding weekend is almost here, and we thought it would be helpful to give you a quick rundown of the festivities so you can better plan your travel schedule (and your outfits!):
Tuesday, July 16
5:00 p.m.
Welcome cocktails at the Gardens of Augustus
hosted by Marchesa Marella Finzi-Contini (Dolfi’s aunt!)
Dress: Informal
Wednesday, July 17
1:30 p.m.
Lunch at Da Luigi Beach Club
hosted by Isabel Chiu
Dress: Beach chic
9:00 p.m.
Dinner at Ristorante Le Grottelle
hosted by Dolfi De Vecchi
Dress: Informal
Thursday, July 18
10:00 a.m.
Hike the historic “Passatiello” path from Anacapri to Capri
led by Auden Beebe
Dress: Walking shoes or hiking boots
9:00 p.m.
Dinner at Il Riccio
hosted by Constantine and Rebecca Chiu (my big brother & his wife!)
Dress: Cocktail
Friday, July 19
11:00 a.m.
Excursion to Villa Lachowski in Positano
led by Mordecai von Ephrussí
Dress: Informal
7:30 p.m.
Sunset music recital and banquet at the monastery of Certosa di San Giacomo
hosted by the Conte and Contessa De Vecchi
Dress: Formal
Saturday, July 20
5:00 p.m.
&nbs
p; WEDDING CEREMONY
Villa Lysis
WEDDING RECEPTION
Villa Jovis
Dress: Formal
Sunday, July 21
2:00 p.m.
Farewell lunch onboard the super yacht Bravo Olympia
Dress: Resort chic
Please choose to arrive on the day that’s most convenient for you, and our wedding coordinator, Gillian (gillian@devecchichiuwedding.com), will contact you to coordinate your VIP transfers and arrival to Capri. Of course, we hope you’ll be able to make it to all the events, beginning on Tuesday. We are so honored that you’re able to take the time out of your busy life, and we can’t wait to share every special moment of our wedding week on the enchanted island with you!
xoxo,
Issie & Dolfi
I
Anacapri
ISOLA DI CAPRI, ITALY, 2013
The midmorning haze cleared a few miles outside of Naples, and from the helicopter, Capri suddenly appeared like a glistening rock, as if the gods had cast a giant emerald down into the middle of the sea. Lucie (92nd Street Y Nursery School / Brearley / Brown, Class of ’16) glanced down at the deep blue waters, wondering how warm it was and how soon she could jump in. She loved the feel of ocean water on her skin.